


wooden floors, walls, and window sills

by brookethenerd



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M, No Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:20:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8763940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookethenerd/pseuds/brookethenerd
Summary: a purely fluffy philkas ‘first time’ fic





	

Lukas Waldenbeck isn’t an idiot, no matter how much he might pretend to be. He knows that when it all inevitably comes out, when everyone finds out about him and Philip, a lot of people won’t be okay with it. His father probably won’t be okay with it. He knows it could all be ripped away from him.

But at least he was able to love him while he could.

He’s been thinking about that word a lot since he told Helen the truth. _Love_.

He’s only ever been able to attach it to a few people. A long time ago, his father. His mother.

But loving Philip is different. Maybe that’s why he didn’t recognize it for what it was.

Sometimes loving Philip tastes like asphalt and feels like ash, because he’s so scared he’s going to lose him he can’t think straight. Sometimes loving Philip tastes like freedom and feels like it, too. Sometimes it’s both those things, and more, more, so much more. Loving Philip is the biggest thing his heart has ever seen.

He doesn’t expect Philip to forgive him for all that he’s done. He tells him this in the many messages he sends. In all of them, he starts off with, _I don’t expect you to answer._

And he talks. He talks, and talks, and talks. He talks more in those texts to Philip than he has since his mother was alive. Because, like his mother, Philip wants to hear it.

Even if he’s angry at him, and never forgives him.

It’s on the third day that his father leaves for Poughkeepsie, and tells Lukas he’ll be back in a few days.

 _I can’t look at you right now_ , he says on his way out.

Normally, that would make him feel sick. His father’s words usually feel like needles.

But Lukas is relieved to not have to come up with an excuse as to why he gave up the sponsorship; he’s not brave enough to tell his father the real reason, not yet.

He spends the first few hours in the guest room, where his father put his mother’s things when she died. The room is dusty; no one goes in. The air inside is too heavy with longing.

He talks to his mother, too. He tells her about Philip. He tells her how badly he messed up, and how he tried to fix it. He tells her that he loves Philip; he tells her so many times he imagines she’s getting tired to hear it. And when he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend she’s there with him.

The doorbell rings after the sun goes down. Lukas makes his way down the stairs, preparing an excuse for Rose, about to fake being sick.

Then he opens the door, and finds the last person he expected to see.

Philip stands on the doormat, rocking back on his heels, lips pressed together. He’s on the verge of bolting, like a frightened animal. One misstep and Philip could run away.

“Philip.” Lukas breathes.

Philip’s lips part, and he drops his gaze to the ground, before looking at Lukas.

“I got your texts.” He says. Lukas steps back, and without another word, Philip steps inside.

He shrugs off his coat, and Lukas tries not to look at the sliver of exposed skin above his waistline when he does so.

“Look, I-“

“I’m sorry-“

They both speak at once, and all of a sudden, it feels like the first time they kissed. All anxious words and careful hands and too much distance between them.

But this time, Lukas isn’t afraid of leaning in.

“I fucked up. And you don’t have to forgive me, or whatever. I just wanted you to know that-“

“Stop.” Philip says. Lukas’ mouth snaps shut.

“Stop.” Philip says again.

“It’s not okay. But I think-I think it will be soon.” Philip says, brows pulling together, gaze dropping.

“I love you.” Lukas says. The words slip out before he can stop them. Philip’s head snaps up, and something like disbelief fills his face.

Lukas, cheeks bright red, only watches him. He doesn’t regret that he said it; he’s just scared of what Philip is going to say. His words are hanging between them, and Philip holds them now. It’s his decision what to do with them.

Philip doesn’t end up saying anything at all. Instead, he takes a step forward, closes the distance between them, takes Lukas’ face between his hands, and kisses him.

It isn’t as careful as their first. It isn’t as frantic as their second. It isn’t as happy as their third.

But it’s _steady_.

Lukas’ hands slide down to Philip’s waist, and they dip beneath his shirt, fingers splayed against the small of his back. Lukas’ lips part against Philip’s, and then they’re backing up until Lukas’ ankles knock into the stairs.

They break apart, both asking with their eyes. They don’t even have to nod; the other just knows.

Lukas pulls Philip up the stairs, and through the hallway. He pulls him into the room, and presses Philip against the door, letting it shut with a soft _snick_.

Philip tugs Lukas’ shirt up and over his head, letting it fall to the floor. The minute it’s gone they’re kissing again, backing up against the bed. They tumble back onto it, Philip on top of Lukas.

Philip’s shirt comes off quickly, and somehow his boots end up on the floor, too.

Lukas beneath him, Philip ducks his head, trailing his lips down to Lukas’ navel, and back up. Lukas drags him back up, pressing his lips to his.

Lukas tugs the covers up over them, and they kick their jeans off beneath them, and for a little while, they’re not broken or hurting or _anything_ but whole and together and happy.

-

Philip wakes up cold. His feet are sticking out from under the covers, and when he looks down, he sees the curve of a shoulder, a head tucked against him. Lukas has an arm slung over Philip’s waist, and his warm breath sits his ribcage every few seconds.

Lukas must stir at his movements, because a moment later, he murmurs, “Stop hogging the damn covers.”

Philip smiles, and Lukas opens his eyes, groaning. He lifts his head, and lays it back down on Philip’s stomach. Philip’s hands travel to Lukas’ hair, and he works his fingers through it.

“I do too.” Philip says.

“Hmm?” Lukas asks.

“Love you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Lukas tilts his chin so he can see Philip, and he smiles a goofy smile, before closing his eyes again.

“If you do, then share the covers.” He says.

“You could always put clothes on.”

Lukas opens one eye, crinkling his nose.

“You want me too?”

“No.”

Lukas grins smugly.

“Go to sleep.” Philip says.

“I will if you shut up.”

Philip sighs, and tugs the covers over them both, evenly distributing them. Lukas makes a content noise, and curls back up against Philip, asleep in seconds.

For a few minutes, until sleep takes Philip too, he watches Lukas. Right now, he can’t be angry at Lukas for what he’s done. He doesn’t quite forgive him, not yet, but he isn’t angry.

All he is, really, is grateful, that he’s gotten to be with Lukas at all, no matter how hard it’s been. Just being with him is enough.


End file.
